Monsters
by Dr.camfiction
Summary: We all have our monsters. Some of us, without hope. You can't kill the monster inside you. But you can sure as hell try.
_**This story is for the suffering. For those dying inside like I was. For the ones who find hope a lie, whom are overcome by the darkness. Because pain is impossible to describe. But me? I'll try. for you.**_

Smile, because it's easier than explaining what's killing you inside." - It's impossible to tell people what you're thinking, what you're feeling because you know it's all gonna come out wrong. You don't understand why you can't say what's wrong- you know what it feels like; why won't it come out? you wanna write a 100 or a 1000 pages on how it is but no words come to you. Why can't you make them see? They see you're struggling for the words; they give you some of their own. You nod and you tell them that's exactly it, even though you know it's lie but it's close enough, you guess, though you're not sure. It calms them down, gets them off your case. And you're relieved they're done interrogating you...before you realize you wished they'd stay because being along is worse. All you have is your thoughts after that.

All these feelings and memories on what you'd wish you'd done differently stay, replaying again and again and AGAIN. It's a monster that distances you from everyone else, sucking away your strength and your will. Everything you love to do- everything you think will help make the monster go away -now seems scary because you've screwed up there too. Everywhere you look- even in the most trivial things that you didn't think could POSSIBLY be a link to this or that -is a reminder of that creeping, lurking monster stuck in your brain and why the hell won't it just leave you alone already?!

"Let me sleep! Let me sleep! Please! Please! I can't do this anymore! Please!"

God, my hands are shaking right now. Gotta get them to calm down. Geez, didn't think this would be so hard, going back to that time... It's actually making me nauseous. Ok then.

You sleep FINALLY. It's only for a few hours. The monster doesn't follow you there- sometimes -but when you wake up, it's like waking up into a nightmare. Even when the day ahead of you is so bright and sunny and the sky is cloudless, you can see the color fading from everything...everything except for the things you don't wanna see. It's just not fair, watching these black and white images run by and laugh while you're stuck in this one spot that you can't get out of, this constant state of hell, where every place you screwed up and every bad experience stands, mocking you for your inability to do such simple things ("You're stuck in this hole while everyone else is moving forward with their lives"). Why can't you be better? Why can't you be perfect, like so many others?

There comes a time when you try to move past it, run away from the monster. Distance yourself from the problem... You'll figure it out later. You just can't deal with it right now (is there even a solution to go to?, you wonder but there's no answer from the darkness). You'll find a new hobby, maybe meet a person or two, maybe try out some new music, a new show, anything to keep the past in the past and the present from taking you back to the past, its new best friend, it seems.

It doesn't work. Reminders are there too or just throwing their happiness back in your face, as if it's something to be flaunted. All the upbeat music sounds wrong to your ears and all the laugh-tracks are mocking and every joke just sounds stale. None of it manages to penetrate the tidal wave of feelings in front of you, isolating you from the rest of the world.

Occasionally, it'll feel ok. Not great but the pain has faded. Dulled into background noise you've all heard before.

Then, out of nowhere, this jolt of panic runs through you. You don't understand why until all the horrible feelings suddenly re-enter your mind and flow throughout your body. It's all so familiar and you understand what happened. The monster is back, stabbing your heart while tearing it up and crushing it, all at the same time, and it's worse this time around. But it's familiar...

...and you're sorry to say but it's...safe...too...sick as it is...

The more time goes on, it all just gets worse. You try to fend for yourself from the monster, subdue it as much as possible but it's like fighting a juggernaut. You seem so petty and useless next to it. The people you're with don't make it any better and all you wanna do is scream, "STOP."

Or, at least, that's the way it seemed for me, back during my time of this shit... It doesn't come close to the actual feeling though. After all...there are no words. Everyone has their own insight on it all and yours is probably so much different from mine... I wish I could buy a plane ticket, fly to your city, show up at your house, and frikkin hug the living daylights out of you. In my mind, we'd just sit in silence...

...because there are no words. (And who knows why I wrote this and who really cares?)

You said you thought crying was a sign of weakness... You must think I'm crazy, then, for wishing to have your gift. I wish I could let everything out in a way that's universal. I can't ever seem to get them out.

You probably think I'm nuts right now, hate me for...whatever- I'd probably hate me too. But there's a point to all this.

I think, in every person, there's a sadistic desire to see ourselves crash and burn, to wither in the wreckage of our dreams. Some people fight it off better than others. The rest of us get stuck with baggage.

These twisted desires- buried so deep in our subconscious that we don't realize it's there -lead to the monsters that haunt us, leading us back to our original, crappy state every time we feel even a smidgen of hope or joy.

Not gonna lie... You can't kill it. Fighting it is useless. There is no point.

You're gonna hate me more for saying this but... The only way you're gonna move past this spiraling madness is to make peace with it. It's gonna be the hardest fucking thing you ever do but it's not impossible. Don't tell me it is; I've been there, I've done that. Sure, my monster wasn't nearly as big as yours but your monster isn't any bigger or any stronger than you let it be.

It doesn't make the monster go away either. It still follows you. But the pain does fade...does simmer down. It doesn't happen instantly either; it's a gradual goodbye. It'll come back sometimes, just as suffocating as before, even when you don't remember everything your bullies said or maybe you won't remember exactly what people did to you. The pain will be the same, clawing at your chest, but, by that time, you'll know ways to calm it all back down again.

They'll be ways that don't leave a scar because you can't seem to feel anything else but that pain, ways that won't include burning to feel some warmth, among many others.

That day is when you're gonna realize that it was all worth it. It'll make you a better person, even if you still see the world with a dark and twisted view. Hey, at least you're aware of how terrible it can be. Maybe you'll find someone going through the same- or similar -things and you're gonna be able to reach out and steady them.

Don't tell me you can't make peace. That's just the monster and the past and the present yelling at you. I know you're capable of doing it, shaky as the process may be.

Why do I say such things- things you may find delusional and hate me for? Well... You're still alive, aren't ya? You've made it this far. It counts for something.

That's the stone cold truth.


End file.
